I experienced a bit of a crisis earlier today that nearly drove me to literal tears. My pastor sent a church update that said in part:
Q: When will we meet face-to-face again?
A: No one knows. Montana just announced a three-phase opening. In phase one, churches can gather with no more than 10 people present. Phase two allows churches to gather with 50 or less people. Phase three has no restrictions. My sense is that it will be months before we can gather for worship face-to-face again, with a strong possibility of more seasons of isolation to come (emphasis mine).
I honestly wanted to scream after reading that. Not weeks to go back to fellowship, but months and more isolation to come?
It was then I realized not only how much I miss going to church, but how much I appreciate and need the fellowship that goes along with it.
Yes, my church posts online sermons on Sundays, and will start offering online classes. But it’s not the same. I “attended” a live online Easter service with my son, but while a good service overall, it made me sad. I doubt I can watch more. The online courses are the same way for me, so why do something that only makes me angry or sad? A part of me wonders if I should quit entirely. After all, what’s the point of attending or supporting a church that’s no longer a church except via computer screen? It’s cold and disconnected, and that’s not real worship or fellowship to me.
I was thinking on my way home today that once my church finally returns to normal, and I decide to continue to go, I will still be angry for a long time afterward. None of you need to guess as to why; I’ve made my position clear on all of this.
One could sat that God is aware of the limits we’ve been put under, so in no way do those limits limit him.
All true, and I can’t argue against it.
One could also say I’m being petulant, and I can’t argue against that, either. Yet I must also acknowledge my feelings—whether or not they’re rational or justified—before I can move past them.
Now that I’ve splattered my emotional brain vomit all over your screen, I will admit to something that happened a few minutes ago. While writing this entry, I researched the online classes available so I could mention them here. Turns out none have started yet. Instead, the link led me to a signup page with a poll asking what type of class I’d be interested in—along with a request to facilitate one.
Guess what God whispered in my ear when I saw the request to facilitate?
During trying times like this, God often asks us to be part of the solution, and I am not exempt from appointment no matter how much I mope (or maybe it’s because I mope?).
4 thoughts on “Small Crises”
I enjoyed reading about your “emotional brain vomit.” Probably because there was no clean up required, afterwards, unlike the vomit episodes I have experienced previously. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good, because I’m out of 409!
You are so good at analyzing and giving vent to your feelings. It helps all of us who just tend to gloss over the top.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks! It comes with an analytical brain that God decided to grace me with 🙂